Requiem of Honour
by Priestess Skye
Summary: Kagome risks her life to save her enemy from a mortal wound. In response to Walter's World War II challenge.
1. Chapter 1

The men were gathering for battle again. Kagome watched as her village leader went door to door, collecting husbands and male children. She had hidden Souta in a secret room beneath her floor boards with instructions not to say anything. The village was desperate, a sense of fear overwhelming everybody. It seemed as if no child was too young anymore. The Japanese were nearby, holding the rest of their province hostage. She could understand the urgency the members of her village felt. Her mother had confided to her the horrors of what would follow Japanese occupation. She had been indoctrined about the atrocities that would come right up until her mother's death two weeks earlier. Even war didn't put a stop to the flu. She reached over her pouch of herbs, grabbing the bucket that held the freshly dried grains of rice she harvested the other week. One handful would do for the day. They would have to ration soon and there was no point in putting it off. Both she and her brother could survive on rations until this war was over.

The fire was nothing more than a small flame on a pile of sticks and though she knew it wouldn't get much larger, due to wet wood from the recent rains, she kept feeding it anyhow. Perhaps it wouldn't get larger, but maybe it would get stronger. She just needed it strong enough to boil water. Men walked past her and Kagome lowered her eyes. It would be impolite to gaze upon them. She was a mere girl. War was not her business, unless the village men asked her to feed them. She was still in mourning. They would leave her alone out of respect. She hoped.

She watched from under hooded eyelids as wives and mothers said goodbye to their husbands and children. Even the elderly, the heads of households were being armed with old, ragged guns. They would be nothing against the Japanese, she knew. The Chinese army held much power, but as they were engaged elsewhere, the unorganized men who marched out would be able to do very little to top the oncoming invasion.

She would be spending her nights busy, she knew, as she ran from hut to hut offering medicines and herbs to those who were injured in battle. Trained in the ways of ancient healing, she held a power that made her both untouchable, yet in demand. Women from all over provided her with the herbs she would need. She kept a steady supply of plants required for healing salves already pressed and contained in a little bag. All they would require was water, which in and of itself lately was scarce. Water was a precious commodity, needed to sustain those going off to battle. It was just one more aspect of the rationing.

"Higurashi!" a deep baritone voice called out. She looked up momentarily to see the village leader approaching her hut. She lifted herself from her crossed legs, ignoring the slightly boiling water and rice set aside in the cloth next to the pit. Sitting on her knees, she bowed low to the coming visitor, ensuring that her eyes would not meet his. According to tradition, she was not worthy of such a treat. She was female, as lowly as they come and treated as such.

"Lord Kouga," she acknowledged, keeping her head to the ground. "It is an honour."

"Your brother, Higurashi. He has yet to check in with my generals."

Struggling not to panic, Kagome spoke the rehearsed lie. She would not send her brother, her only surviving family member off to die. Trained or not, Kouga could not keep an eleven year old boy alive. "He is not here, my lord. He is off visiting my elderly aunt Kaede. She is not healthy and requires assistance. Souta offered to go and help, my lord, knowing that her hut would need repairs and she'll need a steady supply of wood to keep her fires going. She has help from the other females in her village, but all of the men are off fighting."

He regarded her for a moment. She could feel his icy blue gaze on her and she resisted the temptation to lift her head. It would almost mean certain death if she did. She was not worthy according to law, though inside, she knew her worth was so much more than his. She only wished she could vocalize this thought without repercussion. It was not in her nature to act the meek and docile woman, though she would if it meant her own survival.

"When will he return?"

"He will wait out the winter. He is still young and travelling during the harsh winter will be a danger to him. Once spring arrives he will know that my aunt is okay and will return to work in our village again."

She hoped he bought the lies. Family ties were important enough that there should be very few questions, but then it wasn't common either to have the family split as such. Many of the huts here still housed several generations of the same family. Her father had kicked both her brother, mother and she out of his house. Finding a place that was acceptable for them was a difficult task and as such, they were often regarded as lower class than everybody else. The only thing that kept them from being pushed out was her ability to heal the wounded and help the sick.

"We will have won by then, so it will not matter. Your family holds honour, Higurashi, to be so good as to send the only surviving male to help those who despise you."

She flinched at his praise and felt the anger growing within her. Her fists clenched together at her side and she had to remember to bite her tongue. Kouga meant no offense. To speak to him of her ire now would only alienate herself from everybody else when she needed the village support now more than ever. She feared Japanese occupation. More so, she feared the idea of being cast out on her own with Japanese soldiers traipsing along the countryside, or her own soldiers who may not have been with a woman for months. She was not so innocent as not to know what would happen to a girl like her on her own.

"Perhaps, Higurashi, when this is complete and we have returned successful, I will marry you. It would do very well for my family to have a healer in the midst. You will be honoured."

"I am honoured, my lord," she bit out, attempting to sound grateful when in reality she was appalled by his arrogance. How dare he! How dare he dictate her future. She was unwed, untied to any man. Kouga had had his eye on her for a long time and once, long ago she found him handsome. But she also found him conceited, overbearing, full of pride and egotistical. He would not do for her at all. She wanted a husband who recognized her value for what it was, not for what she could offer him. Her skills at healing were an asset, but they didn't define who she was. Kouga just recognized the power he would hold within his hands if she belonged to him. "When spring comes and Souta returns home, I will send him back with a message to my aunt. I dare not marry without family consent. It would be dishonourable."

His eyes narrowed, focusing in on her much like the way a wolf watched his prey. Her skin crawled at the mere thought of him touching her. In truth, there was nothing wrong with the man and he would make a wonderful husband to any girl. But she was not any girl. She was Kagome Higurashi, and she demanded a man whose sole focus wasn't on himself. He turned and walked away, but not before she saw the upturned quirk of his lips as he smirked. He was that sure of himself. It irritated her to no end.

Turning away, she walked back into her hut and shut the door. The rice would be fully cooked soon and there was enough duck to feed both her and her brother for the next two days if they ate it sparingly. It sat upon a stick in the middle of the wooden structure roasting. Though unseasoned, it smelled good to her. She turned the spit again so it would roast on the other side, and padded silently over to her futon. The mats slid aside easily enough and she pulled up the knotted wood that identified the trap door. "Souta?" she whispered as she peered in. She would give him notice that it was her.

Terrified eyes stared up at her from the near darkness below, save the one lamp she had him bring down. "Just checking," she reassured.

"Are they looking for me? I should go with them, Kagome."

"No!" she cried, jumping down into the darkness. The room was small, but well kept. Her mother had done well in anticipating what might come when she had it built. There was a small dresser for clothes, a shelf for personal items and a futon. She hated locking Souta up in here, especially when he was so young. He hated the darkness, but the thought of him lying dead in a pool of his own blood because he was untrained was so much more frightening. "Kouga would have you killed in an instant if it meant he'd be able to get to me sooner. Furthermore, he has no use for you. He wouldn't cover your back. You'd be lost because everybody else would care more for themselves than a child. Stay here, stay hidden."

"Kagome," he sighed like a typical eleven year old. "I've been older than my age for a long time now. It's my job to take care of you, not vice versa."

She walked over and ran her hands through his hair before pulling him close for a hug. He had no clue what losing the last surviving member of her family would do to her. "You are taking care of me Souta. You take care of me by taking care of yourself. If you're gone, I have no one left to care for. There will be plenty of time for war later, when you're older, when you're trained. I'll give you up to the army then, but not to some local guerrillas. They have selfish motives. They would not hesitate in sacrificing you if you became a hindrance. Stay, Souta. I'd lose it now if I lost you, and I would lose you."

She let go, smiling at him. "Dinner is about ready. It's not much, some roasted duck and rice, but it'll suffice. We'll be rationing our food. I also have a pot on the fire boiling some water for some tea. I'm sorry it's not anything fancier."

The boy smiled at her as she turned away. He was so little, she thought, much smaller than some of the other boys his age. She watched them all walk out of the little village with rifles in hand. She knew that less than a third would return at the end of the day. Just the other day they were running around and playing with each other, completing chores, finding water, things that a normal child would do. How would they behave on their first kill? Could they kill? She couldn't believe that one of them could kill a Japanese soldier without repercussions. Souta would do it if it meant surviving. The Higurashi's were survivors. But that didn't mean he would remain unaffected. She heard of the battles that were beginning in the West. She heard of the bloodletting, the loss, the stories of houses being burned to rubble and blood flowing down the street like a river of water. Souta would be no more than a number if she lost him. And he if survived, he'd be no more than a shell.

She would have neither.

The first crash came when she put her hands on the rungs of the wooden ladder. A quick look to her brother and he extinguished the small oil lantern, enshrouding them in darkness. She climbed quickly and silently, lifting the floorboard just a touch so she could peer into the room. Seeing nothing, she climbed out and covered it with the futon once more. There would be nobody finding her brother today. Her bow and quiver were retrieved from her chest. Though she knew they would be little defense as they were used for hunting, she also knew they were better than nothing. The hut became silent with the exception of a man's heavy breathing.

On alert, she peered through the door into the main room, then gasped as she saw the blood pooling on the wooden floor. Long, silver hair mixed with it, staining red, and his eyes were closed. Dropping her weapon, she ran out to meet him, rolling him onto his back. Stomach wound. The knife was still deeply embedded. The slight rise and fall of his chest told her he was still alive. The healer couldn't abhor the blood, though she knew to help this man would be treason against her country, and most certainly death. If she wouldn't send Souta to his death, why should she condemn herself?

The blood was still warm, sticky as it gathered around her fingers on the ground. A price would be paid.

His life or her honour.

"Souta," she called as she slid her arms under the man's shoulders. He could not stay within sight. "I need your help. Open the floor and stand at the bottom of the ladder. I'm going to pass somebody down to you. Be very careful with him. He's gravely injured."

AN

This is for Walter's WW2 fic challenge. It shouldn't be any longer than five chapters. I'm going to stay close to the time era and what I know, but there may be some factual errors and more errors on society and customs.

Disclaimer: Inuyasha and company are not mine. They belong to Rumiko Takahashi.


	2. Chapter 2

Sweat beaded along Kagome's brow as she and Souta tried to carry him down into the hidden room. Both were young and small, and unable to carry the man in such a way that didn't aggravate the wound. It has been a long, tedious night constantly bathing him in cool water to keep the fever at bay while she removed the knife to stitch up the wound. It was serious enough that it should have killed him, she remembered thinking when she had felt the blood seep out onto her hands as she pressed down. Yet, nearly twelve hours later, the strange soldier remained alive, though not conscious. Souta had him well in hand for the time being. For twelve hours, through the darkness of the night, she had not slept, wishing to remain by his side to ensure that the worst of wound was over.

And it bothered her that he hadn't tried to wake up yet.

Her fingers clenched around the wood of the brush she held in her hands, ignoring the splinters she received from the rough treatment. Her own hand was bandaged and wrapped tightly within cloth, the faint scent of herbs coming from beneath. She needed to excuse the blood on her floor that would not wash away, and the simplest excuse would be an action falling upon her. She had smashed a small bowl and left the shards of pottery around for any visitor to see. Still, there was a large amount of blood for a simple cut, and she knew that the more astute members of her village would see through her deception.

The bucket of once clean water had grown red as she rinsed the brush once more before placing it back on the ground. Her weight was thrown into her movements, pushing her arms down even further as she swept it across the floor and back to herself. The once vibrant red pools were no longer there, but the floor was spotless. They would serve as a constant reminder as to how she gave up her Chinese honour. The once benevolent village leader, Kouga, who was all bluster and no actions would never regard upon her the same way again. He would find out and demand a suitable punishment for such an injustice. She would be flogged, if not worse.

And if he caught Souta the punishment would be even worse simply because her initial lie would have been found out. As it was now, he was packing a satchel of clothing and food rations and he was going to make his way out to his aunt's village. A neighbouring friend was heading that way with a small wagon of goods. They were sneaking their own children out of the village and Souta was welcome to join them. She had no choice. Harbouring the enemy was endangering both. She could not go against her nature and her training, but she would not allow harm to come to her brother. She was fortunate enough to be able to do both today.

"Kagome, the blood has set into the wood." She looked up to see Souta packing some dried meat into his bag, as well as several fruits and a couple cups of rice. She stared at the floor finally accepting the inevitable. She would not be able to wash the stain away. It would serve as permanent reminder of what she did today. "Ma left a small rug she had procured in her bedroom. Move it to cover the stain. We can make it a welcome mat."

She sat back on her haunches, stretching her arms and relaxing them as she considered her brother's words. How was it that he was that intuitive at such a young age? "Are you almost packed?"

"I am leaving in two minutes. The wagon is packed and I just have to climb in. We're waiting until the supper hour when most people will be inside."

Her scrub brush fell to the ground with a clatter that echoed throughout. The journey would not be easy with a war being fought around them. She prayed silently for their safety, hoping that bandits or Japanese didn't attack their wagon in hopes of goods and food. She was taking a great risk already sending him away. "Write to me when you arrive so I know you're safe. Send a message the very minute you get there. I want to hear from you."

He smiled a small smile, more of a quirk of his lips really and it was more reassuring than she thought he knew. "The first thing I'll do is ask for a piece of paper and something to write with." Three knocks could be heard on the side of the house and she knew that was his signal to go. There would be no male living with her now. She would be alone in her house with an enemy soldier resting beneath the surface. If allegations of treason don't become prominent, surely the allegations of lust and whoring would. This was not the world she wanted anybody she loved to live within. "Be safe, Souta." She watched him nod as he snuck out a window and across the back of the next hut over. He was quick and was out of sight almost instantly. She already missed him. Kagome lifted the bucket of reddened water and hefted it out of the window behind him and let the ground soak it in. The floor was still red, though it had dissipated from a bright red to a dull maroon. She dug through the back for her mother's rug and hoped that it would do well to distract those who came to her door.

She hoped, at least for a little while, that everybody would stay away.

A second bucket of cool, clean and clear water sat near the door and she poured some into a small bowl before heading to the back of her house. Her patient's fever continued as he shook beneath the trap door. Carefully, she held it with one hand as she climbed down the small ladder and found the latern so she could have some light. Sweat rested upon his brow as his body twitched in both pain and illusion. Every now and again a moan would escape his mouth. "You're too pale," she murmured as she dipped a cloth into the cool water before pressing it against his face. She hoped it was merely exhaustion and shock that brought on the fever and not infection.

His skin was still too hot for her liking and nimble fingers quickly worked the buttons on his uniform

jacket and shirt. Propriety be damned at the moment, she needed to help him. She soaked the cloth once more and placed it along his chest, trying not to look at the clean, defined lines of his physique. "You need to wake up," she instructed, knowing that he was in no way able to obey at this moment. "I won't know if you're going to be okay until you're awake."

Regardless, she continued her treatment and soaked the cloth in the cool water again before placing it on his body. Over and over she applied the cloth in various spots, hoping to bring down his body temperature. She stopped for all of one moment to lift the bandage she had placed over the knife wound. She shuddered as she remembered the feel of removing the blade, the way it had made a sickening squishing sound as it brushed against muscles, skin and bones, the way the blood sloshed around it then spurted up the very moment she had pulled it free. Until two hours ago her face had been covered in dried, caked-on droplets. She lifted the cloth that bound him and inspected the wound, pleased to see that the blood had stopped flowing and was clotting. Still, it was an ugly wound and one that had required much work on her part. She was forever thankful that he had not woken as she stitched the wound, knowing that it was painful without the herbal draft she typically brewed for her patients. "Your wound is looking better. It has stopped bleeding and I don't see signs of infection," she stated, hoping that he could at least hear her. She poked it slightly and watched him twitch before she reached for her herbal bag and placed more of the salve she had made earlier for it. "This will help it heal faster. I need you to wake up though. You've slept entirely too long."

And yet, he remained mostly still under her ministrations. She wondered if he was trying to hide from the pain and ignore what had happened. However, somehow she knew that wasn't the case. He didn't look like he was a man who would hide from pain. She could see the stubborn set of his jaw and despite not seeing his eyes, she knew there would be an intensity buried there. No, he wouldn't hide from the pain. She poured some water into a ladle and brought it to his mouth, forcing it open and forcing the liquid down his throat. Dehydration would only make things worse for him, not better. She watched the lines of his throat as the muscles automatically pushed the liquid down, and she brought the ladle to his lips once again. She had a draft ready to go that would help with the fever, as well as some tea, but he needed to wake up to take both. The herbal liquid would be too thick for her to simply send down his throat like this.

"Wake up," she prodded gently, again. The cloth was soaked again and returned to his forehead as she brushed his bangs away. "I will not risk my life so you can die. I would never be able to hide your body. You need to get well so you can leave on your own." A slow moan escaped his lips, parched from not speaking the past several days. It gave her hope. Sound was typically absent in the most serious of cases. She pressed the cloth to his neck, wiping away the beads of sweat as she did so. "That's it. You're half there. Now you need to make my job a little bit easier and get all the way there. You only need to wake up once. You can go right back to sleep afterward."

She watched for several more hours as he came close to waking several times. She had changed her water twice since then, hoping the village wouldn't wonder why she needed so much fresh, cool water. He had stopped sweating, which was promising and his skin wasn't so flushed, though his cheeks continued to retain a rosy hue. She wasn't sure if that was natural or not. He was so pale that it seemed as if he were always pale. Still, despite it all, she continued to speak to him, hoping that he could at least hear her encouraging him.

Kagome jumped though when a vice-like grip fell upon her arm, stilling it as she wiped his brow one more time. Tears formed in her eyes as she struggled not to scream. She would not call attention to herself, not when she was harbouring the enemy. Still, slowly, little by little she could feel the blood being cut off from her arm. His nails dug into her skin and she was sure if he held her with any more force, they would have broken through the skin. She didn't speak, instead she snapped her head to look down at him, noting the most intense gold eyes she had ever seen. "Please let go," she whispered, gently trying to pull her arm back. Focused eyes stared back at her, as if they were trying to read deep into her soul. She could feel them digging, as if seeking answers. "You were injured and fell upon my doorway. You have just awoken from a fever caused by your injuries. You're safe here."

"You're Chinese," he stated, speaking her tongue. It was obvious the man was highly educated, though it didn't surprise her as he was highly decorated as well. A lowly foot soldier would not have the means to learn her tongue.

"Yes."

"You should have let me die instead."


	3. Chapter 3

She should have been used to arrogant and stubborn men, having lived around Kouga for years. His arrogance never failed to irritate her. Unfortunately, neither did the soldier's. There was no look of sympathy on his face when he had declared that she should have left him for dead, as one might expect when one put their own life in danger for another. There was no compassion, no gratitude or appreciation for the role she played in his survival. Only disdain.

"You're not dying now unless you choose to kill yourself," Kagome snapped at him as she brushed his hands away from the bandage. "And there's no honour in ending your own life."

"There is no honour in allowing a wretch like you to tend to me as well."

Kagome's hands didn't miss a beat as she applied new salve to the wound. The skin was still bright red and puckered, but the blisters were starting to go down and the most infected area was beginning to puss. The infection was slowly draining away from his body. He hissed as she poked at the tender flesh and she smiled, knowing that he deserved it with the hell he was putting her through. "Yes, yes, I know," she agreed. "I'm Chinese. You can't be consorting with the enemy. Well guess what, I'm consorting with the enemy too and you know what, when my village leader returns, regardless of whether or not we're under Japanese occupation, he will probably kill me as he's leading the men in our village in the fight against you."

She had heard it all before, each and every time she brought him down food to eat or water to drink. His persistence in this diatribe never failed to amuse her, especially as it was usually followed with his easy acceptance of the food and water. Maybe it was simply instinct that had him reaching or the simple nourishment as she didn't see him as the type to deliberately seek his down death. His gold eyes remained still and cold when he deigned to look at her. Most of them he kept them shut and turned away. "Coward," she had muttered the other day when he refused to even glance at her. It was perhaps the only time where they had been filled with heat. And anger. And irritation. And everything to prove that he was on the mend, at least physically.

His fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to sit up. She could see the consternation on his brow and sympathized with his predicament. Nobody liked being injured or sick. Furthermore, very few people liked being dependent on somebody else. For her, as a woman, it was a fact of life, and one she had gradually accepted over the years as she grew older. But that didn't mean she liked it, she merely tolerated it. She had a feeling that the soldier was not the type to merely tolerate anything, most especially being dependent on a woman. Her hand fell upon his chest and she ignored the heat as she pushed him gently back down. "You're going to undo all of the work I've done," she chided as she glanced beneath the bandage once more. "When you're strong enough, then you can sit up, but not until then. Your body has suffered a lot of trauma."

Gunfire echoed in the background, shattering the silence that had enshrouded her village. Screams could be heard in a fear off distance. She didn't know if it was her side or theirs. Or if she even had a side. The soldier, for all of his bluster, didn't seem like the type who would rape a woman. Were the others like him? She thought to her own village men and knew that they wouldn't have an issue. Certainly not Kouga. Still, the constant battering of the machine weaponry both startled and scared her as she dimmed the oil lantern around them. Even her soldier chose to remain silent, not knowing who the cause of the gunfire was. Or perhaps it was because he was in no state to defend himself if need be. His own rifle sat untouched in another compartment of her home. She would give it back in due time, when it was time for him to leave, but not before.

She glanced at him out of her peripheral vision. Not for the first time, she was forced to admire his features. His hair, now that it wasn't slicked with sweat, was light and airy, and a shade of silver she had never seen before. The first time she thought he had it because he was old. But now, she knew differently. Having had a closer look at him, having spoken with him, she knew he was only a matter of years older than she.

Yet his eyes looked as if they held the wisdom of the ages. What a complex man he was, she thought as the gunfire continued to echo above them.

--

"What's your name?" she asked him as she soaked his blood soaked bandages in the water basin by his futon. She was greeted with silence, which was just about as much as she expected. She didn't bother to even off him a side glance as she rang out the cloth once more, listening to the water drip and pour out of it. The water was no longer clean, instead tinged with a red. The solider was next to her, his abdomen covered in a new dressing with a fresh herb salve spread over top of it. "I need to know what to call you when I'm yelling at you for ruining all of my hard work. Give me a name, it doesn't even have to be your own if you don't trust me, just make one up. But please give me something."

Silence remained. His gaze, strong and focused, remained away from her as he sat straight so his back was against the wall. He stared straight ahead. Sighing, Kagome lifted the cloth from the basin and placed it in a basket of clothing and cloths she planned on hanging on the outside. "I'm Kagome," she continued, knowing she wasn't going to get a name out of him any time soon. "My mother named me after an old family friend of my grandmother's. Apparently my grandmother requested that my parents name me after her. She was Japanese too. She ran to China to follow her Chinese lover. When I grew up I used to think that it was a name without honour, and I hated it. Now, it's mine. And it's mine because I'm more like her than anybody else I know. I'm not Japanese, nor am I looking for a lover who has been labelled as my enemy. But she was her own person. She cared so little about what society dictated and followed her heart. I can only wish the same would happen to me one day. I can only hope I'll be strong enough to do that one day."

He remained silent. His silence was rapidly becoming irritating as she was not one to keep to herself most days. She rejoiced in the fact that she still had Souta to keep her company as there was somebody to talk to in the lonely nights. But Souta was gone, and it worried her that she hadn't heard from him yet. Her nights were even lonelier. "My brother's name is also Japanese, named after my great-great uncle. Tradition and honouring the past is important in my family. We have no ties to any of these people anymore, and I'm sure they cannot be traced to me at all, having so many generations come and go, but it's nice. Unfortunately it also sets us apart."

She thought of Kouga and his declaration earlier in the month. She had not seen him since and was immensely thankful for it. She grew up alongside him for many years and remembered being enamoured with him as a child. But that was before she knew better. His arrogance and domineering nature frightened her just a little. She wanted to be left on her own. "There's a villager here, perhaps you have heard of him in your travels before you fell on my doorstep," she tested, sending a side-long glance at her patient. "His name is Kouga, though that's not his real name, it's one he gave himself, and he's, well I guess, the village leader. We really don't have an elected leader and nobody officially named him as such, he just sort of stood up." She waited, and still no acknowledgement from the man. "Anyway, he has declared himself my official suitor, which does not surprise me given his nature. When he returns he'll probably declare me his wife and whisk me away." She laughed, though it was empty. "I don't know why all you men assume that we all want to be a wife and take a husband and raise children. I mean I would love children one day, but not with Kouga." Sighing, she finished dressing the wound and placed the basin down next to the lantern.

"You know," she chided, "you make it very difficult to hold a conversation with you if you don't reply back. I'm harbouring a strange man in my house and I know absolutely nothing about you, yet you know my life story."

"It is not my fault that you choose to speak of things that are better left unsaid to a stranger."

She focused on him, and noted the blank look in his eyes as he stared straight ahead. His pale lips were pressed together in a thin line. There was colour in his cheeks though, well as much colour as one as him could have. He wasn't a deathly white, though, and that was something she took joy in. "And pray tell, who am I supposed to speak?" she asked. "Myself? Then people really will think I'm crazy, though it'll probably get me out of my marriage with Kouga."

She lifted the basin of water and tied it to the string at the bottom of the ladder, so she would be able to pull it up with ease when it was complete. She herself would have to slice her arm once again, just to give the illusion of blood in case she was caught dumping the red water. "I'm sorry there's no sunlight," she stated as she carefully lifted the hatch and peered into her bedroom. Nary a being. "I'd take you outside, but it would pose a great risk to both myself and you if we were caught, especially in your condition, though baring any more stupidity, you should be completely healed in a matter of days."

"Girl," he called out as she lifted the hatch the rest of the way. "Your brother, the boy-child you spoke of, have you heard of his whereabouts yet?"

She paused, looking down at him, though he still refused to look at her. "No, not yet, though I understand that it may not be easy sending a note right now." Gunfire echoed in the background again, startling her. "The way is dangerous and he's still young though. Even if he can't send a note, I just hope that he arrived at my aunt's safely."

"Do you feel as if he is gone?"

"Gone?" Kagome thought a moment, contemplating the meaning. "From the house, yes. It's lonely. But gone? No. I don't feel like anything is wrong, or that I have lost something. I would be able to feel that, wouldn't I? Deep down inside?"

He turned to look at her then, the full impact of his golden gaze hitting her square in the chest, knocking her breath away. It looked as if it held the wisdom of the ages. "There are very few things stronger than a family bond. Trust in that."

Warmth filled her with his words. Though hope had never eluded her, it was suddenly strengthened.

"Thank you," she whispered, her gratitude evident.

"Sesshoumaru."

AN:

Thank you so much for your reviews to date! They are much appreciated. I'm going to take a moment to go between history and fanfiction. For the most part, I'm simply using WWII in China as a setting. The challenge stated that Kagome was to be Chinese and Sesshoumaru Japanese during Japanese occupation of China in WW2. So yes, they are required to fit certain molds. So I have done a little research, but probably not to the extent that I should. I'm more concerned with the plot itself than the details of the setting. I apologize if you feel that this detracts from the story. I want to focus on emotion. So yes, it will not be 100% historically accurate. But I do hope that you enjoy it nonetheless, as I'm enjoying the process of writing and developing it.

Skye


	4. Chapter 4

Kagome watched as Sesshoumaru paced back and forth in the hidden room. It was as if the walls were closing in on him and he was searching for a way out, though she knew that not to be the case. His strength had almost returned completely. The wound was now considered paltry, and yet he stayed. She assumed that had more to do with the uncertainty of what was going on outside then wanting to stay hidden. If he chose death over being healed by enemy hands, she knew that he would not hesitate to walk into battle. His honour would dictate it.

The gunfire had increased, as had some of the shelling. Daily they were barricading themselves in the room waiting until the ground would stop quaking. The hum of airplanes flew overhead and she was unsure about whether or not she should duck and hide or go on with her business. They had no word over which side had the upper hand and if he walked out, would he walk right out into one of her village men. They would not take him hostage, she knew. They would kill him, and she refused to see all of her work undone.

"There has been no word yet on what has been happening," she informed him during one of the silent moments. She had been stepping outside daily to speak to some of the villagers. Their men had yet to return from battle and nobody had any news as to what was happening on the battlefront. The Japanese were trained with a skill that she knew would be hard to match, yet her men had been practicing guerrilla warfare since they were old enough to hold a gun, knowing they'd need the skills to survive. "Even the elders are having trouble deciphering the state of affairs. Everybody is on alert and watching."

"And waiting," he murmured, his ears pointed in the direction of the above hatch. "It is not safe in here, but it is safer than it is out there. Does anybody else know of your hide away?"

"Just my brother. And he would never share the information on it knowing that I'd be charged with treason. He'd die for me, just as I would die for him."

"They'd charge him with treason too, even if did share."

"Yes, he knows that too."

He remained silent for a moment, before sitting on the small futon. He allowed her to leave him for a moment, only to return with some rice and vegetables. The portion, while not large, was larger than hers. For once, he felt compelled to share the food with her, but he knew she would only refuse him with that small smile of hers. It disturbed him. "Your brother holds honour."

The smile returned regardless, though her eyes were startled at the praise offered. They were blue, he noted for the first time. A rarity for a girl like her, and one that made him wonder why she wasn't married yet. He scowled at that thought. While he didn't want to marry her himself, she didn't want the Kouga boy to either. He would clearly make her unhappy and for somebody who spent so much of her time giving to others, she needed something for herself. As it was he still wouldn't be able to guarantee her safety once his team marched in.

"He does," she confirmed. "His sense of honour is strong, much like yours. I'm sure that comes right down the line in your family."

His silence on the matter didn't surprise her, as his silence on many matters didn't surprise her. Over the course of his stay she had learned that Sesshoumaru kept many aspects of himself and his life guarded and secret from others, including her. In the beginning it didn't upset her, but as she grew to knew him and began to speak with him more, she found herself wanting to know everything there was about him. Her curiousity was insatiable. He was nothing like he had seemed when he first fell upon her doorstep, and she knew, that if at all possible, he wouldn't hurt her. If he had wanted to, he could have done it long ago. He could have pushed her to the ground, onto the futon, against the wall, anywhere, and taken what many soldiers believed to be theirs when they stumbled upon an enemy female. He did not.

Nor did it appear as if he were thinking of trying.

It seemed as if everything her mother had taught her was for naught. The more time she spent with him, the less she feared of Japanese occupation, though she knew it still wouldn't be easy, and she'd have to fight for what little freedom she maintained now. It seemed though as if her future was going too based on the next few days. Live in occupied territory under the rule of men she didn't know, or live as she has been, but under the rule of Kouga, standing next to his side as a show piece. Neither choice appealed to her.

"You cannot run," Sesshoumaru interrupted, as if reading her thoughts. "There is nowhere to run to. If your aunt's village is not under siege yet, it will be."

"And Souta?" she asked, turning to him with alarmed eyes. That didn't sit well with him either.

"My men do not harm children."

"Yet they will harm women," she countered, setting her plate aside.

"Not all men are honourable," Sesshoumaru replied, indifference in his voice. "Some will take what they want when they want to. Even you, with your agility, would find it difficult to fight against them. There is no security."

She heard his warning loud and clear. When he left, all bets were off and she'd be on her own again. He would do nothing to stop the coming onslaught. She only hoped that she would be spared. Yet his indifference to her and her gender didn't bother her. It was the way things were and she knew that even he, a high ranking officer, could do little to change it.

Not unless he held the ability to change the world in the palm of his hand.

--

She brought him flowers today. They were more like weeds, Kagome thought with a cringe, but she picked them nonetheless and carried them down in a vase. In reality, they were probably the only ones that weren't trampled by the villagers as they trained before they left, or ruined by the recent gun smoke. But it was the thought that counts. Sesshoumaru would probably see little worth in them, as he saw little worth in everything, but something was needed to bring life to the little basement. It was strange for a man to have such an outlook on life. She would have thought it was because one was lacking in confidence and esteem, but no, not Sesshoumaru. He was full of it. It didn't take a sharp eye to see that quality within him.

Most days he had an almost arrogant air about him, a sense of superiority that caused him to look down on others. Except maybe her. He saw her for who she was, though, he would do nothing to protect that. She was fine with that.

The bright yellow tops of the flowers did little to enhance the doom and gloom of the room. They would be dead in a matter of hours. What the room needed was sunlight, and she tried to offer it some at least once a day by leaving the hatch open. But with the turmoil of outside, recently she had feared doing just that. Her fear was proven right today when she heard the unexpected footsteps above. Both she and Sesshoumaru had pressed themselves against the far wall, she for her own safety, Sesshoumaru for both defensive and offensive reasons. He was braced for the fight she realized as she saw his yellow eyes narrow in anticipation. She had blown out the oil lamp, cutting off all light. Still, his eyes glowed in the dark. They stood out like a beacon.

Neither spoke and she was careful enough to control her breathing so it wasn't too heavy. The darkness surrounded them and perhaps for the first time since her mother had this little hideaway built into their house, she felt closed in. When she was younger it used to her own private sanctuary. She would run to it to be a girl, the child she wasn't allowed to be in public since she was not born of the right gender. Today she could only pray that it continued to be a sanctuary and not a cage.

The footsteps above them got louder. Kagome could feel her hand shaking against the wood of the wall. The other covered her mouth. She had always considered herself to be courageous, but in this moment she was terrified. It could merely be somebody looking for help. Or it could more Japanese soldiers. Or it could be Kouga and his gang. She hoped it was the first of the three. "Kagome?" she could hear her childhood friend call her name. Still, she didn't breathe knowing her friend would have no problems turning her in if she found she was breaking the law. Like every other woman in the village she had to fight for her position and she knew she would be looked upon with more favour if her competition were eliminated.

It would be even better for her if that favour came from Kouga. The girl had dreamed of marrying him since she was a young girl.

She turned toward Sesshoumaru to shake her head, letting him know that she did not trust the woman in the room above them. Though she couldn't see him, she knew his eyes had adjusted well enough to see her. He was trained for moments like this.

The footsteps above faded away momentarily and both heard the door to the hut slam shut. They waited a good thirty minutes before he stepped up the ladder to lift the floor board to peer out. Her palms were sweaty as she struck a match and reached for the oil lamp. Her whole body was high strung and tense to the point she found herself shaking and trembling. "Ayame," she whispered her pet name of her friend. "A nice girl but she would do anything to rid herself of the obstacles that stand in the way of her goal."

"And her goal would be?"

"Kouga."

The name said it all, as did her expression. She sat upon his futon, struggling to compose herself. In all of her years she had never had such a close call as today. Nobody knew of her hideaway. "She lives by a code that is not all together honourable as well," she explained, opening and closing her fists, attempting to relax.

"Most people do," Sesshoumaru murmured, taking a seat against the wall. She could see the way his body still stiffed slightly as he bent mid-waist. "My father and brother was amongst them. My mother too, to an extent."

Kagome looked up but didn't say a word, knowing that doing so would be the quickest to get him to stop speaking. "My parents despised each other at marriage and still do, though they maintained the illusion of a union for several years for political reasons. My brother was born of sin, an affair my father had with the daughter of one of his adversaries. Neither acts with honour."

"Where are they now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"My father? Dead. Killed by the father of the woman. He was weak when there should have been no weakness."

"And your brother?"

"Off following the footsteps of my father. Rather than fight for what is his, he is off dallying with some woman, a Shinto priestess last I heard. While it is not the priestess I condemn, I do not approve of him setting aside his obligations, but then he is his father's son. No, there is no honour in my family. I refuse to fall into that trap."

Kagome glanced at the yellow weeds once more, noting how the petals had already begun to weaken and go limp, and the stem softened up, bending where it shouldn't. The lack of sunlight in the past hour had damaged it irreparably. It was as if the room was slowly sucking the life out of the flowers minute by minute. Why did it feel as if that were an omen of what was to come?


	5. Chapter 5

The day of her judgement had arrived. Kagome knew it before anybody could ever say anything to her. For days now the village and surrounding area has been silent, signalling that some sort of resolution had come to the fighting. The villagers were tense as they awaited the outcome. She glanced at her housemate as he ate the food she had presented him earlier. The roasted duck, while not seasoned well, provided the nourishment he would need to leave her place in good health. As it was he was already ready to leave.

She had managed to wash the blood stains out of his uniform during his stay, spending several hours in the back of her house with a wash basin. She hung them in the kitchen, near the wood burning stove so they would dry without attracting attention. She watched as he slipped the jacket on and began to pull his hair back. Despite being functional, she could tell his rank was high by the decorations on it. For just a moment she wished she could see him in full dress regalia, covered in the medals and adornments he had earned over his years of service. "Here, let me tie that back," she murmured, wanting to put her hands on him one more time. Weeks of having him underfoot had grown on her and she knew that the minute he walked through that door she was going to miss him. Despite not speaking to him much, she had grown to depend on his presence. She found sanctuary within it too.

More so, she had learned to trust him like she had trusted no other man. That in and of itself was dangerous given his current occupation in the Japanese army.

She grabbed the leather tie from him and for the first time, ran her fingers through the length of his hair. She had taken great delight in doing so when he was unconscious and high with fever, but never to its full length in fear of getting caught, and never when he was awake. He remained perfectly still during her ministrations and she smiled. Despite his initial misgivings weeks ago, he trusted her. "I heard from Souta today. A single word on a small piece of paper, delivered by a merchant, but I recognize his handwriting. He's safe," she breathed.

He didn't speak right away, but she didn't expect him to either. Words were rarely needed between them these days. She had come to understand the man behind the blank mask. While not troubled, he had his own dilemmas to solve. He had learned to hide who he was in order to achieve his goals. But she could see it. Deep down she knew he was a good man, despite heading up a group that was about to destroy the lives of many.

"No harm will come to the child."

"I know. But it makes me feel better hearing it. Thank you."

She wore one of her better outfits and while simple, it was enough to make her stand out. She didn't want to blend into the background, though she knew that would be wise. She wanted his men to know her skills as a healer and to believe that she could be of use. If she were useful, she would not be disposable. "Your safety is another matter," Sesshoumaru stated, looking down, piercing her eyes with his own. Swallowing, Kagome found it difficult to look away. They held so much within them, and yet nothing at the same time. There was the slightest bit of pity, but nothing in them indicated that she had no hope. And he didn't dare tell her what his plan was for her, though she was sure he had one. They were his men who were marching in. Surely they would listen to him. But then he couldn't play favourites.

"Not all of us honourable, Kagome," he warned, leaning forward to brush a strand of hair away from her face.

"I know."

Kagome smiled and settled on the futon, watching as he strapped the belt around his waist. Looking at him now, as he stood in full uniform and full health, he was an imposing figure indeed and she was sure she wouldn't have wanted to meet him in any other situation. His face was ruthless, his eyes cold, and his mouth set in stone. Yet there was also something predatory in him, as if he appreciated the hunt war brought for him. No, he was not dishonourable, and she hoped many of his men weren't either. Still, if she had to die tonight, she knew she'd die fulfilled. Well mostly fulfilled. There were regrets, things she had yet to experience in life. But she had come and done what she was meant to do. She had brought a stubborn man back from the brink of death and it wasn't possible to look more alive than what he did in that very moment. It was something she knew she could never lay claim to again in life.

"What are you going to do next?" she asked, folding her hands in front of her. He barely glanced at her as he reached for the rifle that had once been strapped to his back. He broke it open, peering inside before taking a cloth and cleaning the barrel.

"Finishing the job I had come to start. Ensure that this area is secured before moving onward. There is always another battle to fight, a challenge to face."

The flowers she had brought him a week ago still sat in the makeshift vase she had brought down, withered and lifeless. The once bright yellow was now a deep brown and most of the petals had fallen from the stem and lay haphazardly on the table. She thought then to the omen she believed it represented and knew today that it couldn't be any truer. Somehow, something was going to change and she knew that it wouldn't be for the better.

"If you can get word to my brother, please let him know that all was well in the end?" she asked him, her eyes pleading with him. Surely he could not deny a last request and she knew if he agreed to it, he would carry it out to the end.

"Not all of us are dishonourable," he replied. He put his weapon down and leaned forward so his hands fell on the futon on either side of her. His face was so close she could feel his hot breath on her cheeks. His cold, gold eyes were now filled with something indescribable. "I cannot see to your safety, but I will do my best to ensure that you come to no harm." Briefly, only for a moment, his lips touched her own and she felt she had been branded.

"Then I'm not worried one bit."

--

The cold metal of the barrel of his gun poked into her back as he pushed her out of the door. Despite trusting him to keep his word she couldn't help but fear what would happen next. She had never had such a deadly weapon pressed against her in such an intimate fashion. The Sesshoumaru she had seen in the little room of her building was no more, and instead it was replaced with this ruthless, malicious killer. Together they walked the streets and she felt the eyes of many on her. Some were the old village elders who had thought it more prudent to join the Japanese rather than fight against them. Others looked upon her with pity, as if her fate were sealed. Several of the women and children were terrified, wondering if she was just the prelude of what was to come. To be honest, Kagome was unsure herself.

She smiled at the little children who hid behind their parents, hoping that for once, they wouldn't be afraid. Sesshoumaru had told her that his men wouldn't harm the children. She believed him. If nothing else she knew when somebody was telling her a lie and when somebody honestly believed what they were saying. There was no deception in his eyes when he spoke of that.

"What's going to happen next?" she questioned as he marched her down the street. She couldn't help but shudder as the barrel brushed against the nape of her neck. The metal was cold, almost chilling.

"Silence," he instructed, as he led her to another hut. This one significantly larger than hers, and certainly filled with more worldly goods. She recognized many of them. Kouga's prize armour handed down to him from his father, a painting belonging to another village member, rugs belonging to others. She gasped as she saw her mother's prize vase sitting on an antique chest. They had already raided her house and taken what was most valuable to her.

Kagome tried not to cry. To cry would give the men ahead of her a new weapon, and they already had enough as it was. Gunfire still echoed in the background. The ground still quaked as planes flew over head. She knew this was just the start.

To her left she saw the makeshift cage, a large area encased with barbed wire, and many of the village men already inside. Kouga stood at the front, looking dejected. She avoided his gaze and wondered if he knew just how much she had worked against him. She stumbled on a rock, falling to her knees and scraped her hands. Kagome still refused to cry, though the pebbles beneath bit into the flesh of her hands. The gun only pressed itself harder into her back, a reminder to keep moving.

_This is Sesshoumaru_, she reminded herself as she got up and held her head high. Just an hour ago he was promising to do his best to keep her safe. She had to trust in that. Just an hour ago he had kissed her, and whether or not it was meant to calm her down or it meant something more didn`t really matter. What mattered was getting through the next couple of months. Surely to goodness this war wouldn`t last much longer than that.

"Whore!" Kouga spat as she brushed by. Saliva rained upon her face, yet she didn't flinch. She also didn't miss the unaffected look on Sesshoumaru's face. He would not, could not, stand up for her today. She looked around and saw as more Japanese soldiers moved in, large vehicles crossing the land, ruining the hard work farmers had put in all year to tend to their crops. All of it was gone instantly. She could see families being evicted, others being enslaved as sorts as they were forced to tend upon the soldiers who took up residence.

"Inside," Sesshoumaru commanded once more. The stench of blood and gunpowder overcame her and her hands automatically went up to cover her face. So much pain. She could feel it bouncing off the walls from the victims who lay on the floor and beds. "Makeshift hospital," he explained, lowering his weapon. His face was still blank. "You will work here until they're all healed."

Horror struck her face as she realized her fate. Her gift was about to become her curse. "It was the best I could do," he breathed, his mouth a scant inch from her ear as he spoke. "It was either that or become some soldier's whore. It is not ideal, but it is safe."

The door shut behind her a moment later, indicating that he was gone and she was alone, well as alone as she could be with a hundred dying soldiers. One, maybe two at the most would survive, and this would be all on her head.

Nothing would be the same. But then everything had changed the moment he fell through her door. Looking out the window she stared longingly at his retreating back, wondering if she could have done it all differently.

And with that, she got to work.

-END-

And that's all she wrote folks! Challenge said to do it in 5 chapters and that's what I've done. There was honestly no easy way to end this. I knew the happily ever after would not come, but it is nice to see how one changes over time, no matter how short or long. I hope you you'd it. A little different than my usual, but it just begged to be written.

Thank you!

Skye


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